


Average Night, Unusual Bar

by Highlander_II



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Challenge: A Ficathon Walks Into A Bar, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-31
Updated: 2010-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/pseuds/Highlander_II
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Dresden walks into a bar and meets Xander Harris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Average Night, Unusual Bar

I found myself sitting in a bar. I felt it was deserved after the day I'd had. Chasing all over town to find something that, as it turned out, I didn't need to find since it hadn't been stolen at all; the owner had simply misplaced it. In his summer home. In Florida.

That's right. The damned thing was never _in_ Chicago.

Normally my days aren't quite so exhausting. Hell, they're typically pretty laid-back. Even boring. Not today. I've seen more of Chicago in one day than I've seen in the previous five years. I never knew there were so many hole-in-the-wall nooks to hide or lose or misplace something.

On the plus side, I found fifty bucks and one of my old sneakers. I think Mister took it for a walk one night and forgot to bring it back.

"Stupid cat," I muttered into my ale. "Should put the thing on a leash next time."

"What?" asked a voice from my left.

I turned to face the man down the bar. "Huh? Oh, sorry. Talking to myself." Which I really shouldn't do. The wizard thing already makes people think I'm nuts.

"About a cat?" the guy asked.

I shrugged. "I have an usual cat?" Even though that's true, I didn't believe it.

Didn't seem to stop this guy from being interested in my cat. "So, what does this unusual cat do?"

"Apparently steals my sneakers and leaves them all over Chicago." I lifted the sneaker in question.

"Maybe not so much 'stupid' as 'odd', then?" he said to me over his own bottle of Mac's finest. Then, "And can I say, this is the best beer I've ever had!"

I chuckled and watched Mac shake his head. I leaned over a little and whispered, "It's not 'beer', it's 'ale', but I'm sure Mac appreciates the sentiment all the same."

The guy looked a little chagrined, but pulled himself together enough to offer a half-shy/half-hearty wave of his bottle to the proprietor. "He's not going to eat my head or anything for that, is he?"

"Not likely, but I can't say I know that much about the guy." Not a lie. Mac keeps mostly to himself and doesn't say all that much. Though when he does speak, it's always important. To reassure the guy, I said, "Hey, don't worry about it. He's pretty easy-going as long as you don't break any of the rules."

"Have I done that yet?" he asked.

Mac shook his head. "Nope." I told you - important.

"Good to know. Happy to spend money here." He put his bottle down before he dropped it. "Can we go back to talking about your weird-strange cat?"

I laughed and gave the guy a pass. "Name's Harry," I told him, holding out a hand.

He met my hand with a firm shake and responded, "Xander."

"What brings you to the only bar I know of in Chicago that caters to the supernatural sect?" I asked. Might as well get it out there in the open up front, because he'd find out anyway - if he hadn't already figured it out.

"That explains it!" I gave him a confused-but-curious look and waited for him to elaborate. "I knew there was something _off_ about this place."

"Off? How?"

He waved a hand back-and-forth in front of himself. "You know, it has a - vibe."

I tried very hard not to laugh at the face he made when he said that. "Yeah. It does." I frowned. "How'd you find this place anyway?" Mac's is a hole-in-the-wall. Best steak sandwiches and ale in town, but a hole-in-the-wall nonetheless.

"Luck?" he offered with a shrug. "No idea. I was hauling ass away from some creature that was chasing me and this place had the most inviting feel about it." He looked around at the ceiling fans and columns. "It's no Bronze, but for shelter from the uglies, it's not bad."

That got my attention pretty quick. "What was chasing you?"

Xander shook his head and shrugged over his beer. "I don't know. Didn't really take the time to stop and ask it's species."

I nodded. "Good survival tactic. Very admirable."

We could've continued bonding over supernatural beasties, but something he'd said struck me as far more interesting. "You mentioned something about 'Bronze'?"

Another nod as he waved to Mac for another ale. "Local hangout back home."

"Popular?"

"Only in the way that it's the _only_ place to hang out that isn't a cemetery. And if that didn't sound creepy and pathetic."

That would only be creepy if I wasn't surrounded by a similar situation. Sure, Chicago's got plenty of places to visit and hang out, but a lot of them use shiny, new-fangled electronics that I could kill without much thought. Most of those places wouldn't like that much. I tend to stick to museums, libraries, book stores and Mac's. Hey, it works for me. "Not creepy or pathetic," I told him.

"Not sure if that says more about you or me, man," he responded.

Man's got a point. Quite possibly, a good one.


End file.
